


Slipped Up

by SapphyreLily, Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fights, M/M, shower scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7618621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon/pseuds/Your_Friendly_Neighborhood_Pigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way back to the house is silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipped Up

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~  
> This project started off as a joke I'm pretty sure but then it turned into this  
> Anyways we hope you enjoy!

The way back to the house is silent. The distance between them used to be nonexistent, shoulders brushing, fingers laced together as they walk with smiles on their faces. But now, they walk far enough away from each other so that it seems like they're at least friends, walking on separate sides of the sidewalk, though not lovers who thrive off the other’s touch.

 

It’s different, and they both hate it, but both are too stubborn to fix what’s been damaged.

 

As the familiar house comes into view, Oikawa quickens his pace, not wanting to linger any longer than needed. Iwaizumi only scowls, following at a slower pace.

 

When Oikawa enters the house first, he turns around and slams the door in Iwaizumi’s face. A loud shout of anger is heard from the other side before the door is pushed open, a fuming Iwaizumi in its wake.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you just going to be an _asshole_ all night?!”

 

Oikawa huffs, turning around and stalking deeper into the house. The front door is slammed shut again before Iwaizumi stomps after him. With a vice like grip, Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa’s arm, yanking him backwards. He narrows his eyes dangerously, anger swirling in his eyes.

 

“Are you not even going to apologize?” Iwaizumi asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

Oikawa stares at him for a moment before looking away. “I have nothing to apologize for.”

 

“So you think there’s nothing wrong with flirting with girls, in front of me, _your boyfriend_ , and handing out your number to said girls? There’s nothing wrong with that? Oh, and I forgot that you also _ditched me_ to go dance with some guy!”

 

“I’m sorry if you’re so insecure, Iwa-chan, but if you _honestly_ think I have eyes for anyone but you, then that’s _your_ problem.”

 

“ _You’re_ the one who was acting like you didn’t give a _shit_ about me!”

 

Oikawa scoffs, yanking his arm away from Iwaizumi, “I think you’re overreacting.”

 

“Overreacting? All I asked for was a simple apology!”

 

“Ah, whatever. I’m taking a shower,” Oikawa says, rolling his eyes. “When you calm down, let’s talk again.”

 

Iwaizumi watches Oikawa slip into the restroom, teeth grinding together, “I hope you fucking _slip_ in there, you prick!” he calls after his boyfriend. He only receives the door slamming, locking a second later, in response.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa angrily shampoos his hair, eyes closed as he mumbles curse words under his breath. Who did Iwaizumi think he was? All Oikawa did was hang out with some girls. Sure, he flirted a little and gave them his number. But it's not like he'd _actually_ do anything with them.

 

And, yeah, okay. Sure, he got up from the table and left Iwaizumi to go dance with some guy. But it was all in good fun, really. He didn’t have any other motive than to just dance and have a good time.

 

If Iwaizumi got jealous, then it’s _his_ problem for not trusting Oikawa.  

 

Sighing, Oikawa tilts his head back, letting the warm water soak his hair, getting rid of the shampoo. The warm water is always comforting after a fight or a stressful day, and the best part is that he can lock the restroom door. He has privacy, and no one is able to barge in and ruin his peace.

 

It’s nice, being able to think without disruption.

 

As he conditions his hair, Oikawa hums in thought. Now that he’s not riled up, he can think about what happened.

 

Now actually taking the time to think, he can see what Iwaizumi meant. Maybe he _was_ a bit rude tonight. He did leave Iwaizumi to talk to other people, even though they were on a _date_. Groaning, Oikawa’s shoulders slump. He really is an asshole, isn’t he? This whole stupid fight is his fault, and it could’ve been resolved if he had just _apologized_ like Iwaizumi asked.

 

But _of course_ he’s as stubborn as a mule. They’re both stubborn, which is why they had this fight in the first place.

 

Maybe he should get out right this moment to apologize? He sees now that he’s in the wrong, and hopefully Iwaizumi will accept his apology. He’ll then plan a new date for the following night, not at a bar, and make it up to Iwaizumi.

 

He’ll also go buy that Godzilla poster Iwaizumi has had his eye on for some time now. Then Iwaizumi will _have_ to accept his apology!

 

In his excitement for his plan, Oikawa forgets momentarily that he’s in the shower. He missteps, his foot sliding on the tiles. A small squeak escapes his lips as he loses his balance, throwing his arms out as he tries to catch himself.

 

He goes down despite his attempts to stop the outcome. His head hits the faucet, a small gasp of pain slipping passed his lips before his head hits the tiles of the shower harshly. Black dots instantly swarm his vision. He weakly places a hand to his head, checking for blood. When he pulls his hand away, he feels sick as he finds his hand covered in red. He makes a feeble attempt to sit up, only for the black dots in his vision to grow.

 

He suddenly feels very nauseous.

 

The last thing he sees before he blacks out is red water slowly disappearing into the drain.  

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi is fuming.

 

At himself, but mostly at Oikawa.

 

Did the ass _seriously_ think that it was acceptable to ditch his date to entertain complete strangers? There are so many things wrong with that that he isn't sure he knows where to begin.

 

Firstly, it is bad manners, and bad etiquette. He is certain he knocked it out of Oikawa all those years ago, yet it seems that he is wrong.

 

Secondly, they are _strangers_. Good-looking strangers, but strangers nonetheless. If Oikawa had ditched him for friends - now that he would understand, because Oikawa is a social animal who doesn't know how keep his nose out of others’ business.

 

But strangers?

 

No. No, that's crossing the line.

 

Because _thirdly,_ they were on a _date_.

 

Come to think of it, why would anyone have a date at a bar?

 

Iwaizumi dissolves into bitter brooding again, cursing everything and everyone, but especially his stubborn boyfriend.

 

Could it have been partly his fault? Iwaizumi wonders. After all, he did not stop Oikawa when he left to dance with that guy, nor did he pull Oikawa back when the girls came over to claim his attention.

 

Would they not have had this fight if he had been more possessive?

 

He grumbles to himself, stewing in his turmoil, and glances up at the clock. Noting the time, he flicks his eyes over to the closed restroom door and sinks deeper into his chair.

 

Oikawa sure was taking his time, even for a post-fight shower.

 

Muttering angrily to himself, he gets up and pounds on the door. “Oi, Shittykawa! Why are you taking so long? Did you _actually_ slip in there?”

 

There is no response, though he can make out the faint sound of the shower running. Iwaizumi frowns. Usually by this time, Oikawa would be done, and would be lazily piling the dozens of hair products he owned on to his precious locks.

 

Something isn't right.

 

He knocks on the door again, this time more vigorously. “Oikawa! If you've left the shower running on purpose just to let the hot water run out to piss me off again, I'm not buying you milk bread for a month!”

 

The shower rains on.

 

Iwaizumi is feeling antsy now, jiggling the door handle, but of course it is locked. “Oikawa! Tooru! I know we were just fighting, but would you put aside your pride for a moment and _answer me_?!”

 

When no response comes, Iwaizumi slams his fist into the door, then curses and runs to their bedroom, fumbling through the drawers for the restroom key. He slams them shut in frustration when he can't find it, belatedly realising that their restroom lock has a very simple override.

 

He runs back to the living room and grabs his wallet, pulling out a coin. He slots the coin in the groove of the lock and twists, disengaging it.

 

Iwaizumi bursts into the restroom, eyes immediately drawn to the crumpled body on the floor. He lets out a strangled cry, dropping to his knees and shaking Oikawa roughly, uncaring that he was getting soaked.

 

“Oikawa! Oikawa! Oh my god, _Tooru_!”

 

The body in his arms is as cold as death, the streaming shower still dumping ice on them. Iwaizumi reaches up to twist the shower off, cradling Oikawa's head carefully as he prepares to move him.

 

_Don't panic. Don’t panic. You are trained, you know how to deal with this._

 

_First things first: Get him out of here._

 

The brunet is a dead weight, long limbs flopping everywhere and dripping water all over the floor. Iwaizumi almost slips as he carries him to their bedroom, placing him on their bed and wiping him down with a towel.

 

It is only when he towels his hair dry that he sees the darkening pink streaks on the towel. He gapes for a second before tossing the towel aside, slowly feeling the back of Oikawa's head for the injury.

 

There. A gash in the back of his head. Iwaizumi flips Oikawa over and parts his hair, squinting at the gaping mouth on his scalp, sticky and oozing blood. The cut is long and neat, the flaps of skin splitting cleanly, edges limp but held out to the other side as if reaching for an embrace. It isn’t very deep, but the sight of pulsing red is nauseating.

 

He wrings his hands for a moment, unsure of what to do.

 

_(Don’t look at the wound, don’t look at the wound.)_

 

_Do I call the ambulance? That needs stitches._

 

_No, he needs first aid. His hair is all oily, I need to wash that damn conditioner off._

 

 _I should call the ambulance_ then _wash the conditioner off._

 

_I just took him out of the shower, damnit!_

 

Iwaizumi growls and presses the soiled towel to the back of Oikawa's head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. With his free hand, he pulls out the phone that has been digging into his hip the whole time, pressing in the emergency number and speaking into it quickly.

 

After explaining the situation to the paramedics, he turns back to Oikawa and checks for his pulse.

 

He can't feel it.

 

Iwaizumi takes a shuddering breath, his heart pounding with fear. He flips Oikawa onto his back and presses his ear to his chest, hissing at the chill of his skin.

 

It's weak, but he thinks he can feel the rise and fall and hear the faintest _thump-thump_ of his heart.

 

It's enough to pacify him, so he pulls Oikawa back into his arms and drags him back to the restroom to rise out that cut.

 

_He’ll be fine, he'll be fine…_

 

_Get that cut rinsed out and make sure he gets properly dry and warm._

 

_You can do this, you can do this._

 

_He won't die, he can't die._

 

_Please let that be the ambulance._

 

* * *

 

“Iwaizumi-san?”

 

It's the doctor, come out from the emergency room where they had been treating Oikawa. Iwaizumi is a nervous wreck. He can't stop his hands from bunching and unbunching the material of his shirt, crumpling the material into a wrinkled mess. He takes a deep breath, trying to quell his terror.

 

“How is he?”

 

_A frantic beeping, a panicked shout._

 

_“Body temperature is too low!”_

 

_“Blood pressure is too low! Get the saline!”_

 

_“Heart rate dropping!”_

 

_“Hand me the bandages! The cut is bleeding again!”_

 

The doctor shakes his head. “He is in a coma. The combined blood loss and hypothermia sent his body into shock, and we only just revived him from cardiac arrest. He is very lucky to still be alive.”

 

“Can I…” Iwaizumi swallows, tries again. “Can I see him?”

 

The doctor leads him to the room, with a warning to remain calm or else he would have to be escorted out. Iwaizumi is about to agree when a frantic beeping fills his ears, and the doctor’s warning flies out of his head as he flings the door open.

 

Oikawa is still and silent, his skin paler than normal, emphasised further by the shade of the hospital gown he is wearing. The heart rate monitor is shrieking a storm, and somewhere behind him, he hears the doctor shouting for backup.

 

Iwaizumi falls next to Oikawa, grabbing his hand. He looks up at the heart rate monitor, but he never learnt to read one. The short, spiking lines don’t spell anything but disaster, he knows that much.

 

Oikawa is barely breathing, his chest immobile. Iwaizumi squeezes his hand, the temperature of it shocking him. Dread builds in his chest, strangling him with the premonition that _this could be the end_. His throat unsticks all of a sudden, garbled words pouring from him in a desperate frenzy.

 

“Oikawa… Tooru, Tooru, please, _please_ , don’t do this to me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t leave me, please, just come back. I’m sorry we fought, I’m sorry I didn’t stop you when you were talking to those people, I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please Tooru, just come back...!”

 

Hands are on his shoulders, gentle but firm voices in his ear, tearing him away and pushing him behind a wall of white-clad bodies. He wants to push his way through, but his brain knows better, _he_ knows better, so he stays back, crushing the bottom of his shirt in his hands as if it would be enough to make up for what he cannot do.

 

There is a steady beeping as the nurses prepare the defibrillator, a shout of “Stand clear!” as the metal plates are placed on a still chest. An electric shock running through a body, jolting it upwards.

 

Iwaizumi stands on the fringe of it all, vision hazy, thoughts disjointed, as the medical team tries to save his boyfriend. All he can hear is the monotonous beep of the flat-lining heart rate monitor, and a continuous prayer that says _please_ and _I'm sorry._

 

* * *

 

A grey stone slab stares back at him, cold cut words etched on its surface. It is impersonal, unfeeling, monotonous and detached. It does not represent the person whose name it carries, cannot properly express the emotion and _life_ that brimmed and spilled over the vessel of _him_.

 

The one that kept giving, kept producing more joy and love like an everlasting fountain, kept pouring out more and more even if he had none left to give.

 

He stares at the grainy, chipped granite, his eyes dry, his pants soaking up dew at the knees.

 

There are hands on his shoulders, the lightest touch, the faintest pressure. He wants them off. He wants a harder pressure, an arm slung about his shoulders, long fingers kneading between his shoulder blades, fingernails tearing furrows into his back.

 

He wants, oh, he wants. He wants back what he has lost, what has flown far far from him, and left him with nothing but an ocean of regrets.

 

“Iwaizumi, please come back with us.”

 

_Please, please, please._

 

“Mattsun, leave him be.”

 

_Mattsun! You really need to eat your vegetables, you know! All that cheese-filled steak is going to make you fat!_

 

“I can’t. I can’t leave a friend in need, Makki, please understand.”

 

_Makki! Look, I made you cream puffs, so don’t be mad anymore, okay? Say you forgive me!_

 

“If I was in grief, I would want some time and space.”

 

_Give me some time._

 

_...I’ll always wait for you._

 

“Sometimes, it’s better to have someone watching your back, and to share your sadness. It’s better not to be alone.”

 

_Don’t leave me, okay, Iwa-chan?_

 

_Dumbass. I’ll never leave you._

 

Iwaizumi raises a hand to graze the name on the headstone. A lone tear rolls down his cheek, the last of its kind.

  
“You left me, not the other way round.”

**Author's Note:**

> Safyre's Tumblr: [Sapphyrelily](sapphyrelily.tumblr.com)
> 
> Jamie's Tumblr: [Seijouho](seijouho.tumblr.com)


End file.
